


Kiss Me

by starforged



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:59:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starforged/pseuds/starforged
Summary: Mal is an idiot, but Alina's always known that





	

Alina doesn’t know how to process what had just happened. Her mouth still tingles, still burns, and she isn’t sure if it’s because of _Mal_  or because of the intensity of the kiss. A kaleidoscope of emotions flicker over his face, in his blue eyes. Need, desire, worry, regret. She reads all of them as easily as she always has with him. 

She knows Mal better than she knows herself.

So why has she never seen his feelings for her before?

But that answer comes just as easily. 

He didn’t know what his feelings for her were anymore than she can figure out how she feels right now.

She licks her lips nervously, and his gaze follows the path of her tongue. The silence chokes in around them harshly. He’s waiting for her to say something, she knows that. Alina just doesn’t know what to say, and maybe Mal doesn’t either.

“I’m sorry,” Mal finally says.  


“What?”  


“I shouldn’t have done that. I just - I don’t know.” His fingers clench into fists, unclench, clench again. 

“You don’t know why you kissed me out of nowhere?”  


“That’s not what I meant,” Mal says in an almost barking tone.   


Alina crosses her arms over her chest, hoping she looks formidable and not upset, not worried. Not like she’s been in love with Mal her entire life, because if she cares and he doesn’t in that same, precise way, she might crumble. 

“I wanted to kiss you, Alina.”  


“Why?”  


Why now? What about now makes him want to kiss her when he’s never tried before? Never done it before?

Her mouth tingles less. It’s almost like it’s never happened. Like if she leaves now, they can both pretend it never happened. She presses her lips together in irritation. Who is she kidding, she’s never going to be able to forget. They live together. She’s going to see him every morning, every night. 

Unless she moves out, like Aleksander wants from her.

But is that what she wants?

“That guy you’re seeing, Aleksander, he’s not a good guy, Alina. He’s using you.” It’s not the first time Mal has expressed his dislike of her… Actually, she’s not sure what to call Aleksander. He’s not exactly her boyfriend, but she isn’t exactly sure she’s single, either.   


It’s not the first time _anyone_  has told her that before.

But today she can’t let it roll off of her. 

Today, she feels the anger roil inside of her, brighter and hotter than a thousand suns. 

“You kissed me because you hate my boyfriend?” Alina snaps. Her arms uncross, and she slams a hand into Mal’s shoulder. Either she’s stronger than she thought, or Mal’s unprepared for her lashing out physically, because he stumbles back from her. “Are you kidding me right now?”  


“That’s not what I said.”  


It’s exactly what he said.

“What, now I’m suddenly not here for you? Now someone finally pays me a little attention, _wants_  me, and you’re upset that I’m unavailable?”  


“I didn’t kiss you because I’m jealous!”   


She goes to hit him again, and he lets her. 

“Okay, I kissed you because I’m jealous,” Mal admits. “But not because you’re unavailable to me.”  


She raises a fist. He holds his hands up in front of him to prevent a broken nose or busted lip. 

“Because you deserve better, Alina.”  


“And suddenly you’re better for me?”  


“Maybe not,” he admits. He drops his hands, she drops hers. “But I know I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have waited until someone else was interested in you to realize that I am, too. I’m an _idiot_ , Alina.”  


“We’re in agreement there,” Alina says.   


He’s interested in her.

Malyen Oretsev is _interested_  in _her._

He’s _jealous_. 

He _wanted to kiss her_. 

She goes quiet again, letting that information process. It’s not fair to her that now is when he’s decided this. But he’s not wrong about Aleksander. There’s something between them, something dark and intense. It attracts her in a way she’s never felt before, but she isn’t sure about him. What he wants from her, she isn’t sure she wants to give. What he wants is not her, but what she can offer to him. He’s not honest, but he’s made it clear that she’s the one he wants.

What if Mal decides he’s wrong, that what he wants is something he can’t have? She goes to him, he changes his mind.

Their friendship is ruined.

Aleksander is not the easy choice, but it’s the choice parts of her are pulled towards.

“Kiss me, Mal,” Alina tells him.  


His eyes go wide with surprise, but the curve of his mouth as he smiles says that he was hoping. And before she can change her mind, that curve is against her mouth again. She’s on fire. She’s the sun. Alina matches him for intensity now that she’s aware of what’s happening, digging her fingers into his hair and tugging gently as she kisses him back. Mal’s hands are in her hair, against her face, hugging whatever curves she has to offer. Down to her hips, her ass, back up again.

Alina doesn’t even realize they’re even moving until she feels the back of the couch against her. Her legs are shaky, her arms. She breaks the kiss and gasps for breath. That’s important, she remembers. Having to breathe while kissing. That’s never been a problem before. 

Mal presses his forehead against hers, one arm wrapped around her waist as he pins her between him and the couch. She finds herself leaning more on him than the furniture, wanting to be as close as she can be.

“So,” Mal says in a breathless, heavy voice.

“Mal,” she responds, keeping her eyes closed. She doesn’t want this spell to be broken with some stupid pissing contest about who she chooses.  


“I was thinking pizza for dinner.”  


Her eyes snap open as she manages a strangled, surprised laugh. “What?”

“Pizza. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” His lips find her cheek, her ear, the side of her neck.  


How can he even think about food when her mind is fuzzy and she can think about only the way his touch makes her think she’s going to spontaneously combust?

“And bad horror movies. You can pick them,” he whispers against her skin.   


He’s driving her insane.

“What a gentleman you are,” she mutters. “Okay.”

He lifts his head from her neck and smiles at her in a way she’s never seen him smile at anyone before. It makes her weak. “Okay.”


End file.
